There was nothing Azula hated more than Ty Lee's effeminate giggle. She constantly accused the acrobat of putting on a show for the boys; making her laugh bubbly, airheaded, and more hopeless. Ty Lee, of course, had no idea what Azula was talking about. It was just her normal laugh, and didn't she laugh like that all the time? Frustration ensued. In the end Azula somehow convinced Ty Lee that she'd been faking her own laugh for her entire life and her real one was a snorting, obnoxious guffaw. This went on for a week before Mai decided to finally point out that Ty Lee sounded very much like a dying beaver-duck, and that their fearsome leader was simply 'being funny again', as they so often worded it. Even so, Azula won. She always did.
Her hair.
There was nothing Azula loved more than Ty Lee's hair. Her own hair was straight and obedient and perfect, and she would have it no other way, but something about her best friend's hair captivated her. It was an unruly twirl of bouncing waves and untamed tresses that took nearly an hour to coax into a hairstyle that still only passed as 'just thrown together'. Often she would offer to brush Ty Lee's hair and stare into their shared reflection at the vanity mirror. One day, her amber eyes filled with intrigue as they regarded the impossible locks of gentle brown, wild and impertinent like the fire she so adored in every moment of her life, and like a moth to the flame her head dipped and those full lips pressed a gentle kiss atop those locks. Ty Lee smiled bashfully, and suddenly things were very warm, and the only thing she could do to break the awkwardness was giggle. That giggle more or less destroyed Azula's good mood and she made a passing insult about Ty Lee's ridiculous laugh before leaving to do something else. Azula had the last word. She always did.
Her eyes.
There was nothing Azula hated more than Ty Lee's eyes. They were so big and brown and stupid, she could only wonder at times if Ty Lee had a single thought in that empty head. The pupils were small and nearly nonexistent while the irises took up most of her bright, dopey-eyed expression. It had been a silent game for Azula ever since she was small to tell Ty Lee to shut her eyes when they were particularly annoying her. Her friend would be perplexed but hesitantly oblige, much to Azula's initial surprise. The poor girl would sit there for the longest time with her eyes shut, calling out to Azula for permission to open them again, to which Azula would most often respond in the negative. Only when Azula's responses ceased to come would Ty Lee open her eyes and see that Azula had left the room already, and she had been there alone, talking to herself. Azula had gotten the last laugh. She always did.
Her hands.
There was nothing Azula loved more than Ty Lee's hands. The skills they were capable of were incredibly diverse, whether it was piercing an enemy's pressure points in just the right location, balancing her entire body weight upright on a thin, unsteady wire, or winning in a game of rock-paper-scissors, Ty Lee's hands mastered any art. Azula would sometimes compliment Ty Lee on the softness of her hands and, on those more rare occasions, would take one of Ty Lee's hands in her own and hold it there. It was passive and casual, as though she did it every day, and Ty Lee would find herself fighting off the urge to giggle and ruin things. Then the need to reciprocate affection would arise and she would happily grip Azula's hand in her own, after which Azula would meet those big, dopey eyes and yank her hand away in disdain. She would say something about Ty Lee's hands being too rough and man-like for her tastes, and that the compliments on their softness was just to make the acrobat feel better, and Ty Lee would sulk pitifully. Azula made the last move. She always did.
The first day of summer was always a time of celebration for the Fire Nation. It marked the start of a new year of the volcanic land's most successful crops, soon to thrive and spread the joys of food and business across the continent. Parties took place in every building; even the lowest of classes had a place to be and a drink in hand. Lamps set aflame and lights danced across the surrounding towns, lighting up the entire nation for one whole night. Music flowed from one song to another, from one road to another, town to town, and city to city, accompanied by howls of laughter and whoops of celebration.
While Mai and Zuko were off doing some silly date thing, Azula and Ty Lee partook of the palace activities with fervor and delight, with the Fire Nation princess in the lead and her plucky friend happily trailing along. They turned down suitors and ate spicy food, reminisced past memories and sneaked expensive wine. As the night wore on well into the early morning and the celebration raged on, Azula grew weary and summoned Ty Lee to join her on the balcony just outside her bedchambers.
Out there the night felt cool and refreshing to their spinning heads; the ongoing fireworks seemed slow against the backdrop of sky, like fireflies floating lazily in the ripples of a pond. Ty Lee threw her arms out and twirled in a perfect pirouette, then fell rather unceremoniously on a pile of plush throw pillows, her limbs splayed out ungracefully. She giggled long and hard, even as Azula curtly lowered herself to the bed of pillows beside her friend.
"Ty Lee, stop that, you sound like a toad-pig," she said in all seriousness, but her expression was relaxed and still held onto an alcohol-induced simper, despite her slight aggravation.
The young acrobat beamed and sat herself upright, unaffected by the harsh words. "I'm sorry, Azula," she replied, then pulled herself into indian-style and gripped her ankles, "I'm just having such a great night." The fireworks left shimmering trails of light in her large, brown eyes, and they suddenly seemed brighter and more alive than usual.
Azula cast a sidelong glance at her friend, paused to observe the lightshow in those big, stupid eyes, and allowed herself a low chuckle. "Yes, it has been enjoyable," she responded in a pretentious tone, as if she had said so first, "The fireworks are better than they were last year - not that that's saying much, but still." She tried to act slightly uninterested but in truth, the moment felt too perfect for even her to ignore; they fell into a companionable silence, accompanied only by the distant pop-hiss-pop of the fireworks and the low whirr of a never-ending party on the floors below them.
Azula wasn't sure if it was the alcohol or fatigue that hit her first; her head was fuzzy, her body heavy, and at some point her neck went slack and her head rolled to one side. She fought back a yawn, lightly rested her temple on the shoulder next to her - which happened to be Ty Lee's - and closed her eyes. Butterflies erupted deep in Ty Lee's stomach and she fought back the urge to giggle again. Instead she casually slipped her palm over top Azula's hand and their fingers interlaced for the first time, and she opted instead for the widest, brightest grin she ever remembered having.
A hint of a smirk ghosted Azula's face as somewhere deep in her mind she became acutely aware of how silly things were and how sappy she felt. Even so, she tilted her head to the side just a bit and buried her face in the crevice of Ty Lee's neck, allowing their bodies to lean into one another, and dozed off there.
Ty Lee wasn't sure how things had led up to that point or why she felt so happy all of the sudden. All she knew was her chi was flying high and her heart soared in her chest as it beat wildly against her rib cage; the fireworks were soothing and exciting all at once and the alcohol swam in her head faster than she felt like she could ever run again, but Azula was holding her hand, and Azula was sleepily nuzzling her neck, and she was with Azula.
And Azula, best of all, was with her. Azula chose to be with her. She always did.